Weeds Disguised as Roses
Lost
Weeds Disguised as Roses
Burning eyes scorch my soul,
whispering stories of worlds untold.
Your eyes burn into mine like fire,
I fall weak to your every desire.
I become a slave to his sire,
and slowly, slowly
creeping up spine,
I believe his sonnet in each perfect line
chanting softly, binding me to you,
promises of things you will do
and words are broken
like glass, fragile.
Angry words flow like a stream agile.
End comes gracefully sealed with a kiss,
its venomous meaning, forget this.
Like a spell, all is forgotten,
and I the pray float on fields of cotton.
But when I'm alone it seems to arise
and you seem to know when you look in my eyes.
Reminiscent, I've been here before,
I've walked upon this crystal floor,
and found it wasn't a floor at all,
alas, it was a waterfall
into a never ending abyss
of blood and shit and vomit and piss.
I vowed never to fall once more,
and still it seems I've opened the door
and pondered of weeds disguised as roses.
I looked at the path, forgot aftermath,
and lost myself within again, within you.
About the Creator
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Comments (6)
What a cozy read. Lovedd it!!
My LORD-DAHHHH!!! That's some concentrated emotional mass! Cleverly crafted and smooth as glass. Fantastic job, Top Storyan!
great
This was raw and powerful. The imagery of love as both intoxicating and destructive really came through — especially the contrast between roses and weeds. It carried so much emotion and honesty, beautifully written.
Great words and very real, congratulations on Top Story xx
"I vowed never to fall once more, and still it seems I've opened the door and pondered of weeds disguised as roses." I love these lines, I can imagine a weed of a person disguising themselves as a rose just to drain the energy and life from you. Or even the fact that a rose in an unwanted location can make it a weed while still being a rose. Unwanted company is unwanted company. Wow I like thinking about your poem, very nice.